"Welcome back," Aaron greeted, blissfully unaware of the grim reaper leaning over his shoulder. Irwyn's mind went into overdrive. "Any issues?"
"No problems occurred," Irwyn replied. Just act like you always would. Ignore the sweat. "As we have all expected, we have a code 9 on our hands," most of the people in the room became alert, though not all.
"What's code 9" one of the younger 'adults' asked, catching Irwyn off guard. How do they not know our internal codes!?
"It mean that there be magical obs… obsticle? Whatever, magical stuff blocking access," Waylan, bless him, seemed to have anticipated that response and had the perfect answer discreetly warning everyone in the know that there was no doubt the caster was listening to them.
"We should make it mandatory to learn the codes before taking the Trials," Irwyn grumbled, as he normally would, probably. "About the code 9, it will be easier if I show you on the map. We need to figure out a quiet, non-lethal solution to it," Irwyn said and approached the bulletin wall, taking out the map he has used to navigate the labyrinthine warehouse. Just as he had hoped, the hidden caster immediately positioned themselves to get a better view. This close up he realized that they were actually quite short. "So basically, the vault door just radiates magic from the enchantments. There is no way we get through that. But we do not actually need to, because the walls are not nearly as well reinforced. There is still some magic but it is so much weaker that it either does not provide that much defense or is focused on preventing only some ways of intrusion. Maxim, maybe you would have a better idea of how to get in through here.”
Taking the clue, Maxim moved next to Irwyn making sure he was positioned on the opposite side of the map. That way the only way to look at the map from up close would be to stand essentially between them, which is exactly where the caster ended up going. Irwyn moved the map ever so slightly so that the vault room would be roughly level with where the infiltrator's head seemed to be and then tapped the room saying “Right here,” his heart jumping to his throat.
“Explosives will not do,” Maxim nodded. “We could maybe burn through the wall but getting acid capable of getting through enchanted stone, however lightly, will be problematic now that One-arm got done in.”
“Excuse me,” one of the young ‘adults’, who clearly had not realised the crisis interjected with confusion. “Why wouldn’t we just…”
“NOW!” and in doing so provided a distraction. Because whatever fraction of a second of edge they could obtain could make all the difference. Irwyn’s magic that had been restricted just a moment ago surged with all the power he could imbue in such a reversal, brilliant beams of light erupted from him. And the threat of death had one benefit at least: He suddenly found it strangely easy to imbue intention into his magic, unlike in the past weeks of struggle. So he willed the light to disperse.
Irwyn had no distinct knowledge of how exactly Void/Darkness allowed someone to be completely invisible. Nor did he know how powerful, if any, barrier the caster had used for protection underneath the deceit. What he did know for sure was that those protections were made solely of Void magic.
And Void and Light were anathema.
His magic shattered the caster’s protection the same way he had ambushed Rage. In a conflict between Light and Void, the element on the offensive won almost by default. Therefore their foe was unveiled within a split second of the signal Irwyn gave. He did not have the time to properly take in their appearance yet though because basically the moment their protections crumbled they received a stone to the head from Waylan’s sling, followed just a moment later by Maxim’s hook punch and Aaron’s cane lunge, all aimed at rendering whoever that was unconscious. Irwyn prepared more magic, flames and light pouring into each palm as he quickly assessed the situation. Thankfully there was no surge of hostile magic to react to. He took a deep breath and looked.
The person, lying face-first on the ground, was indeed short. They had long black hair, loosely falling down their black robes. Overall they appeared downright frail with stick-thin arms, childish fingers, and the small build. Strangely small build in fact.
“It’s a fuckin’ kid,” Waylan’s curse summarized their thoughts perfectly as he approached. Though Irwyn thought that the caster might have rather been around their own age, perhaps slightly younger at most.
“Maxim, if you would?” Old Crow brought over a chair as Maxim lifted the young girl, and that became more undoubtable every passing second, into the chair. But besides all else, the unconscious caster was also an indiscriminate murderer.
“Well, she looks a bit younger than us,” Rainer frowned while the less experienced ‘adults’ in the room were still recovering from the sudden burst of action. Unfortunately, Irwyn did not have that luxury. Because he could not afford a single moment spent inspecting her soft and pretty features, nor the small trail of blood running down her nose from the ambush. All he could focus on was her chest. There on the robe, precisely sewn into the fabric at doubtlessly great expense was a piece of heraldry; Gray background put behind two blocks of magically darkened black, stacked on top of each other seemingly forming a reversed T, except at the top of them were distinct ramparts and inside were small square windows, giving way to the gray background. In other words:
The Insignia of house Blackburg.
“Fuck,” Kalista voiced the opinion of those who noticed perfectly. Even Irwyn could not complain about it being inappropriate for the situation. His mind returned to panicked thought, desperately looking for a solution.
"The ancestral symbol of House Blackburg," Old Crow stated grimly. "We cannot let go nor can we keep her. This is a problem."
"We gonna have ta let 'er leave in the end," Waylan said.
"In my opinion, there is more inherent risk in letting her go," Aaron opinioned.
"We cannot keep her for long," Maxim shook his head. "No one here can properly capture a mage not to mention that someone will come looking sooner rather than later."
"That is not what I meant and you know it," Aaron shot the whole room a hard glare.
"We ain't killing a fuckin' kid," Waylan spoke with a burst of cold anger. "And fuck you for even suggestin' we do."
"She is hardly a 'kid' considering her body count," Aaron immediately counter argued as Waylan's expression became progressively uglier.
"Is she even the same caster?" Maxim interjected, looking at Irwyn. Irwyn did not react, too absorbed in his own thoughts.
"Irw," Rainer shook him, snapping him out of it.
"Sorry. What did you ask?" Irwyn nearly jumped in surprise but a rough plan was forming in his head. Or more like the basis of one.
"Is this the same caster you felt leaving One-hand's shop?" Old Crow also asked for confirmation.
"Yes she definitely is," Irwyn said, he was certain of that at least. He raised his hand for silence as he took a deep breath to sort out his thoughts. "Alright. I have an idea what we can do to get through this, but I need everyone's help and expertise."
"What do you need," Old Crow nodded, clearly taking charge rather than leaving this in Aaron's hands.
"We need to force her into a magical contract."
"Magical contracts are rare and very specific," Old Crow immediately said. "I don't know anyone who would be able to craft us one, much less in time."
"Not that kind of contract. I got the full book of the Name recently," Irwyn shook his head, explaining. "One particular passage says: 'The two wanderers could naught trust the word of the other nor could they succeed alone. Thus they spoke and swore on the Name that governs the skies above to betray not one another. For that very magic coursing within each was the extension of Her and therefore bound both to their very core."
"Again but dis time not gibbish," Waylan looked at him flatly. Most of the others immediately understood though.
"In other words, oaths sworn on the Names of Aspects are binding when spoken between casters," Irwyn summarised. "We need her to swear to me on Umbra's name to leave us alone."
"This is long-shot conjecture," Aaron frowned. "And we are betting a lot."
"I think it will work," Old Crow spoke after considering. "I have a vague recollection of hearing about a similar contract in the past. And it's much better than the alternatives."
"We will need to intimidate her," Irwyn said. "Make her believe that our only other option is to kill her."
"Kalista, keep an eye on her and tell us at the first sign of her waking up," Old Crow agreed and immediately started giving out orders, then he turned towards the young 'adults' in the room instructing them to bring him rope and a big sharp knife from the kitchen. Next, he spoke to the rest of the room "For this to work we need to be in a clear position of power. She is going to try to intimidate, threaten or disturb us. We must not show the slightest weakness to break through the arrogance children of magelord houses almost always have. So if you think you are gonna flinch, leave now."
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
" 'Ight, am out," Waylan said with an angry growl. "I ain't got the stomach to watch this shit, even if needed."
"Alright. Go get a silencing gem and guard the door with it. We mustn't be disturbed," Old Crow did not let that stop him for a second. "Rainer, you just stay in the line of sight with crossed arms and look intimidating. The rest of us will do the same when she awakens."
"We got the stuff," at that time the ropes and knife arrived, passing by Waylan as he left.
"Good. Go guard the door with Waylan when he gets back. Let no one in until we are done here. Maxim, Tie her to the chair, hands on her knees, minimal possible movement. Place her so that she is facing away from the window, a bit of free space in between. Actually, Irwyn, make artificial light behind her so that it casts a long shadow."
"Alright," Irwyn nodded and did so, swept up in Old Crow's pace.
"When she wakes up she will inevitably try to cast. You need to feel when and immediately stop her. Can you manage that."
"Yes," Irwyn nodded.
"Good. You will have to be the main speaker since you need to form the oath. Everyone else will support you the best we can. Once again, we need her to believe that we might actually kill her if she doesn't conform, even though we really cannot. You and Aaron figure out the exact wording, no loopholes."
"Yes," both Irwyn and Aaron moved to the side.
"Maxim, do you know how to properly hold a knife to someone's throat?"
"Cannot say I do."
"Come, I will teach you," Old Crow nodded, this apparently a skill he had neglected to teach before. "Let's start with the dull edge first. Don't be afraid to draw a bit of blood when the time comes."
And so everyone got to work. Irwyn and Aaron were figuring out possible loopholes, Maxim how to handle a knife in very specific circumstances, Kalista looking for the slightest twitch of wakefulness and Rainer being silent so that everyone can do their job. When they had things figured out Old Crow spoke out a list of instructions and they tried to practice, however, soon their time ran out.
"She is waking up," Kalista proclaimed, standing next to Rainer at the far end of the room; both had their arms crossed and tried to look as intimidating as possible. Maxim immediately took his place with a knife on the caster's throat, the artificial light behind them making it very clear that he was the tallest and bulkiest person in the room, even to someone who could see only the shadow. Irwyn took his place in a chair directly in front of her but with some distance while Old Crow and Aaron adapted similar poses to Rainer and Kalista.
Then it was go time.
“Finally awake, are you?” Irwyn said, magic already coursing through him on a hair-trigger. The tied caster half-opened her eyes, flinched ever so slightly and then closed them again as if it was not obvious that she was wide awake. The next moment she immediately tried to gather magic for a spell of some kind. Irwyn did not need to figure out what it was, he immediately shot a prepared beam of half-solid light at her, intentionally scratching her cheek, then bending the trajectory out to not hit maxim before it dispersed. She flinched much harder than Irwyn would have expected, dismissing her own spell; that also made the knife in Maxim’s hand draw blood from her throat making her certainly aware it was there.
“None of that,” Irwyn shook his head. “Try that again and I will give the big guy behind you a signal to slit your throat,” he said, maintaining a poker face, thankfully a skill he had perfected. Maxim grunted in affirmation as deeply as he could, probably sounding threatening to anyone who did not know him. The caster went silent and so did Irwyn. Old Crow had very specifically advised him to let her speak first if things turned out like this, so he just stared. The first great hurdle had been passed, so that was great; she stopped casting when Irwyn interrupted her with a spell of his own. If she had not the situation could have crumbled quickly.
“Fine, what do you want?” after a minute she could no longer bear the silence.
“You are not asking the questions here,” apply more pressure, surrender no initiative. “And my question is: Who are you?”
“Of course, you don’t even know,” she actually scoffed, gall suddenly returning to her alongside anger. Did she assume that we had targeted her? “I am none other than Alira von Blackburg! 17th in the line of succession, and you will release me this instant, peon.”
“I do not think that is going to happen,” Irwyn shook his head processing. 17th probably wasn’t the main bloodline, unless her Ladyship Avys was… no, she certainly was a daughter of some branch family or something, who knows how mage lord family successions work? there certainly were not any books he had found on the topic. “You are too dangerous to let go with what you know about us.”
“Like I have the time to deal with rats,” she scoffed again, playing on the arrogance. That needed to be broken through.
“You seemed quite curious snooping around. Not to mention that you have taken your time with a lot of people these past few days. And none of us are fond of becoming a ‘fool who saw even less’,” that at least got a reaction: She went quiet again seeing that they knew; she did not even try to deny the ritualistic murders. Instead, she looked around the room. Irwyn could almost see the gears in her head turning, looking for a weakness. Old Crow had none to be seen, as old and experienced as he were that was no surprise. Aaron, likewise, showed nothing obvious besides maybe his spectacles some people might be insecure about. Then her eyes wandered to Rainer and Kalista standing next to each other and she made a guess.
“You know, I heard that some mentalists torture young lovers for practice,” she spat with undisguised fury in her tone, looking directly at the pair. “Supposedly taking them apart in front of one another causes an unequalled suffering in each that they may try to replicate in an offensive spell. You will let me go this instant.”
“Hey Irw,” Rainer did not stutter or break the cold expression. “Remember how I argued we shouldn’t kill her?”
“Yeah,” Irwyn nodded even though they had no such conversation.
“I would like to take that back.”
That seemed to finally break her tempo. She looked genuinely startled by the turn of events for a moment to the point even the anger in her eyes seemingly dimmed. That was the time to strike.
“So let me simplify this for both of us. We cannot let you go but killing you is a lot of trouble. Therefore there is only one solution: You will swear to me an oath upon Umbra’s name to leave us be.”
“You do not have the qualification to get me into any oaths,” she kept scoffing. Her arrogance nor anger abating. That was not a good sign. She was still not afraid at all as far as Irwyn could tell. So he pushed.
“You do not get to choose. After what you did to all the others there is no way we will let you just go without a guarantee. Killing you would be massive trouble but my guess is we have at least a few days to get the hell out of Ebon Respite before someone comes knocking. You were running all around the city after all, I bet no one knows exactly where you are.”
“Absolutely hilarious,” she looked at him without a trace of laughter. His speech did not move her at all. Does she realise we are just bluffing? “How about you stop jumping at shadows and watch your own!” she proclaimed with all the bravado in the world. Irwyn expected something to happen, pushing his senses as hard as he could, magic manifesting over his palms in anticipation.
But nothing did. The room was unmoving. Not a speck of magic manifested or so much as shifted anywhere besides his own. What was stranger was that Alira seemed to be genuinely confused. Then the arrogance suddenly broke, giving way to tangible fear. Whatever had given her all the confidence had apparently not worked. Irwyn sweated and tried not to think about what if it had.
“More willing to do as I say now?” he used that moment of her insecurity to speak.
She hesitated for a solid while but eventually, to Irwyn’s immense relief, acquitted. “Fine, what do you want me to swear.”
“You will swear to me upon Umbra’s name that you will indefinitely not directly or indirectly harm us, be it physically or otherwise. Never knowingly do something that you believe would directly disadvantage us nor attempt to make anyone else do so in your stead. You will interpret this oath as restrictively as the words allow.”
“Swear to whom?” she asked and Irwyn hesitated. But just for a moment.
“You do not need to know my name, if you do not already.”
“Fine. I swear it then,” she tried.
“You will repeat my exact words and swear it on Umbra’s Name,” Irwyn, obviously, did not consider that enough. She struggled against the idea, clearly offended by the very thought of it, but eventually, that gnawing fear of death had won out, reinforced by all the tricks Old Crow had hastily bestowed upon them. And so she swore, on Umbra’s Name.
Irwyn felt the vow form, an undeniable bond manifesting between them from naught, fettering each to their words, albeit Irwyn had sworn none in this case. He also realised that it took something from each of them, exactly what he was not sure. Perhaps there is a limit on how many such oaths can be taken. For a moment he was afraid that someone would immediately notice Alira’s oath as soon as she returned wherever she had come from but then the feeling suddenly fizzled out. He could no longer feel the faintest trace of the contract.
“I hope I never have the displeasure of meeting you again,” she scoffed one last time, but not as willfully as before, while magic gathered within her. Irwyn prepared a counter just in case but was feeling confident. “Impresence of the Void,” she said and vanished again, seemingly slipping out of her bindings with no issue. Irwyn felt her as she opened the door and rushed out. He remained silent until she was out of the building and out of what he could sense.
“She is gone,” he sighed and sagged in relief. It went as well as they could possibly expect. No one was dead and they were as safe as they could hope to be given the circumstances. He could see Waylan through the now open door, still providing silence with the enchanted stone, most of the ‘adults’ as well as Narcinia who seemed to be rather exasperated about the whole situation.
“So now we hope it worked? And if so we also bet that it cannot be just removed.” Aaron questioned, as logical as always, though even he was clearly quite glad it was over.
“I felt the oath form between us. And I felt it take something from each of us. Even if it is possible to null an oath sworn on Umbra, which I doubt would be easy, it might not be worth it to lose something over nobodies like us.”
“Let’s hope it is that way,” Old Crow nodded. “Either way, we don’t really have the option of running away. There is no escape from a dedicated enough pursuer. It’s best if we just act as if it worked completely because there is nothing we can really prepare for in the other case.”
“Let’s calm everyone down and return to planning,” Aaron sighed. “A few hours ago I received a confirmation: The artifact, or whatever it actually is, left with a heavy escort yesterday morning marking their arrival in 3 to 4 days. We will have to steal it before they realise Ebon Respite is essentially a lit powderkeg and move it or increase security; which means we will act on the day it gets here. Let’s go back to planning.”